


Light My Candle

by florapaw



Series: Bus Route (in addition) [1]
Category: Watership Down - Richard Adams
Genre: Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Title and Basic Idea Taken from RENT, Typical Teenage Vocabulary, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florapaw/pseuds/florapaw
Summary: Silver was 16 when he met Buckthorn properly, and he wishes it was under better circumstances.





	Light My Candle

**Author's Note:**

> since updates for the proper story are going to slow, i'll try and just update oneshots. this also gives me a chance to explain characters and other little tidbits I've thought of without running the main storyline.  
> this one features buckthorn and silver, mainly because they haven't had time to be introduced in the story.

“Oh, c’mon Silver, you’ll love it,” One of his teammates (probably Speedwell, he wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to over the loud music) grabbed a hold of his wrist and tugged him towards the screen of haze covering the dull door that led to the main room. Silver crinkled his nose at the strong scent of marijuana. The boy holding his wrist gave a small, strangled gasp. “Oh my god, the cheerleaders are here already!”

As much as Silver would just _love_ to listen to Flyairth boast about who she was sleeping with tonight, or who she let fondle her boobs behind the science block yesterday, Silver decided to make his way over to the worn couch and sat back against the itchy material. He took a bottle of water and watched the rest of his group bumbling around like the drunk and high idiots they were.

Silver wasn’t one for binge-drinking or smoking so he had been given the role of designated driver (not like he had his licence or anything, but they only lived a few streets away, and he didn’t trust his friends to walk around in the dark in their state). He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip, ignoring the girls who snuggled against his shoulder and stumbled over their words, asking him to dance or offering him a drink (one girl even snagged her panties in her fingers and pulled them over her hips, her nails tugging her skirt down. He politely declined; gently taking her hands from her waist and offering to call someone for her).

But for some reason, he didn’t turn down Buckthorn.

The brown-haired boy wagged a joint in Silver’s face, but Silver was met with a broad grin. “You’re on the football team, aren’tcha?”

Silver blinked. The scent of weed from Buckthorn was nauseating. “Yeah, I am.”

Buckthorn perked up at this and leaned forward. His cheeks were flushed, and Silver shuffled backwards, unsure of what was going on. Buckthorn licked his lips. “How come I’ve never spoken to you before?” He drawled, placing a hand on Silver’s thighs and leaning forward further. Silver had run out of room to move back into. “Because we just haven’t?” Was all Silver could say.

Buckthorn puffed air from his pouted lips and sat back (almost falling to the ground, looking a little green at the sudden movement). He looked to his fingers and wiggled the joint once again. “Got a light?”

Silver felt around in his pockets and pulled out a box of matches. He flicked one match against the box and handed the burning match to Buckthorn. Silver shifted in his seat. “You can leave now.”

He felt a pair of big glassy eyes stare at him, and then Buckthorn quickly blew the match out. He handed the blackened stick to Silver. “It’s out. I need another.”

Silver felt a smile tug on his lips. He opened the matchbox and took another match, but hesitated to light it. “So, Buckthorn, isn’t it?”

Buckthorn beamed. “I feel honoured that one as great as yourself knows me by name.”

Silver laughed. “You’re the quarterback, how could I not know you? Hell, coach can’t seem to shut up about you.”

He expected his companion to begin to boast (not like he’d mind) but was surprised when Buckthorn fell silent and rolled the unlit joint between his fingers. “Yeah. Dad keeps pressuring me into sport and all that jazz, but I don’t want to be a professional fucking football player. I want to be a doctor or somethin’,” Silver noticed how Buckthorn’s free hand clenched. “All Mum and Dad ever talk about is my athletic skills and scholarships. It’s like they don’t think I’m smart enough to do all this myself.”

Silver struck the match and handed it to Buckthorn, who lit his joint but stayed still, glaring at the smouldering weed. Buckthorn ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m high and drunk and you probably want me to leave. Thanks for the matches.”

Before he had a chance to leave, Silver tipped whatever was left of his water over the joint, staring into Buckthorn’s confused gaze.

“It’s out again. Let me get you another light.”

**Author's Note:**

> and thus was the start of a beautiful friendship(?relationship?)


End file.
